


He's My Man

by lovelyrhink (crimsonwinter)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Foreplay, Heterosexual Sex, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonwinter/pseuds/lovelyrhink
Summary: I love my man.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	He's My Man

**Author's Note:**

> Jessie is a very lucky woman. Hope she doesn't mind that I'm hot for her hubby!

When my man takes me out, I feel divine.

I feel as though God has graced me with a man she’d only ever conjure for herself, and I honor him with my devotion.

My man is tall, gorgeous in the face and gentle in the hands. Golden curls frame deep-set eyes, and his beard grows lush. He laughs like he’s grateful to be alive, and when he sings, his cool baritone makes me feel unworthy. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, ever could love, and every day with him is a gift I’m all too smitten to receive.

When my man takes me out, he walks with me on his arm like he’s the lucky one. He’ll take me downtown, buy me clothes. He’ll take me to the beach, the movies, the fair. Sometimes, I’ll miss whatever he’s bought us tickets for because I’m looking at him, gazing up at him against the night, stardust on his lashes. I like the sun on his face, chest, and arms, but he’s heavenly when bathed in moonlight.

Being with him feels dreamy, as if living an afterlife. I can’t remember what felt good to me before him.

I like his flannels and his hair. I like to dress up for him. I spend his money on lace and perfumes, and when he looks especially handsome, I tell him. I comfort him when he’s anxious, though he navigates the world with ease. He hosts dinner parties and charms our friends. He works hard. He anticipates my needs, and he gives, and gives, and gives.

I love my man.

When he takes me out, the night is a colorful memory in motion, but today, we’re having a lie-in. It’s a lazy Sunday morning with my man, and I have him all to myself.

* * *

I’m reading a novel in bed. The late morning weather is a hazy silver fog, and I’m cozy in the bedding. I flip a page as my man emerges from the bathroom, fixing his curls.

“Look at you,” says Rhett. He crawls into bed with me and I can smell him, clean from his morning shower. Beside me, his long body claims most of the space.

We’ve had breakfast, and I feel warm and full. Waking up in the king’s bed will feed me for a lifetime.

“This is pretty sexy,” he comments, pointing to a passage in my novel that describes a pair of lovers embracing over water.

“Everything is sexy with you.”

Rhett hums, dropping a soft kiss to my bare shoulder. One thick arm comes around me, tucking under my breasts as he snuggles closer. “You think we could do that? Go to Paris and find a bridge like that?”

“Absolutely,” I say calmly, my eyes scanning the page. “We can do anything.”

Beardy kisses travel from my shoulder to my neck, to my face. Distracting me, my man goes for my mouth and I close my book. Kissing him always takes me far from earth and grounds me at the same time. As my right hand threads through his curls, he slips me a bit of tongue. Kissing’s not worth it otherwise, he says.

His lips whisper, “Let’s have sex.”

“Yes, please.”

He sets my book aside and takes me in his arms, and then we’re kissing like two immortals with nowhere to be. His hands find the soft curves of me, and mine the sturdy parts of him. I fall into him, into his kiss, his touch, and the gluttony of kissing and touching him. He reaches beneath the bed covers pull me on top of him. He gets me hot with his mouth on my mouth, then sucks marks into my neck.

My hips begin to grind into him, and I can feel him there beneath me, beneath the fabric of his sweats, swelling. My greedy hands grab for his thick arms and chest, squeezing his pecs through his shirt because I can’t resist him in gray. He knows that I like being in his lap, when he prepares me by slipping his hand down the front of my shorts, but today, it seems my man has other plans. A yip of surprise as he flips me, strong and sure.

Rhett sets me between his spread legs and embraces me from behind, gnawing teethy kisses into my neck. Hot breaths at my ear, his hands work down over my legs, teasing the hem of my shorts with long, blunt fingers. At the small of my back, he’s swollen, incredible thighs at my sides. I lean my head back and make a sound like I like him.

Voicing my thoughts, he purrs, “I like having you in my bed. Can play with you all I want.”

Impatient plaything, I squeeze his thighs. I want to guide his hand to where I’m warming up, but he’s humming, thrumming with desire. He wants to take his time.

He touches my legs, sweeping closer to the softness at my inner thighs with every pass. It pains me not to see him like this, only feel him, tickled by his warm breath, his beard, and the desire blooming in my belly. Bratty, I grab one of his hands and suck a finger into my mouth. He groans and lets me tease him as his other hand continues to ghost over my thighs.

My man breathes hard when I take two fingers in my mouth. I make helpless noises as I roll my pelvis, wanting so badly for him to touch me already. Once he starts, we can go faster.

Finally, he slips his hand into my shorts from the side, fingers pressing gently where I’m damp. I moan around his fingers, and he takes his hand from my mouth to squeeze me against his body, pinning me with his left arm as his right presses more insistently at my panties. I study his hand as two fingers move over the silk, urging me to get wet for him.

Soon, I’m soaked, squirming in his hold for him to get inside. “Please,” I pant. “Touch my pussy.”

Rhett snarls, and I can feel his cock twitch where it presses into my back. I spread my thighs wider to invite him in, and he takes the gesture to slip under my panties. He goes in from the side, and at the first touch of his fingertips, I’m twisting, wanting so badly for him to stop teasing. He knows I can take it. He’s played rougher before.

“Please, baby. Your fingers. Want them inside me.”

When he doesn’t obey, I can’t help myself. I push at his wrist and sink his fingers, hissing into the fulfillment. He growls but doesn’t remove them. Releasing his arm, his left hand quickly yanks my shorts aside, exposing me to the warm bedroom and his fingers. He fingers me lightly, pulling back only to rub the wetness along my slit, teasing the tenderness, before diving back inside.

My cheeks stain pink as he does as he pleases. I want him all over me, but he’s holding back. The two index fingers of his left hand gently circle my clit, and I ache for more. His feather-light touches drive me wild. I want him three digits down to the knuckle, stretching me, getting me ready.

In my lusty haze, tingling where I’m wet and understimulated, I cry his name. “Rhett, please. I need you.”

“Tell me whatcha want,” he answers.

Fuck, what do I want? I want him every which way I can get, but it’s my tender clit that speaks for me. “Lick me open.”

“Yes, baby,” he whispers. My pussy loses his fingers as he moves out from under me and onto the floor beside the bed too gracefully for a man of his size. He pulls me with him as he kneels beside the bed, draping my legs off the edge of our California king. My California king eyes me up, and my pussy aches for his face.

Big warm hands with wet fingertips move under my top as he dips between my legs. He squeezes my waist, meets my eyes, and sinks his beardy mouth.

Heaven, fuck! It’s wet heaven, soft heaven, heaven with a beard and a pointy, eager tongue. I close my eyes because watching him is too much, though I can feel his tousled curls at my thighs as he licks. My shorts are twisted at the crux of my thigh, and I can feel him lap at what’s exposed as his hands grope me. He sucks my clit and I buck, and that’s when he yanks the shorts off me, panties too, leaving me bare from the waist down. He throws my legs over his shoulders and gets back to work, and I swear, God, I swear, when I die, let it be on this man’s mouth.

He eats me so good I forget my name, but I could never forget his. I cry out for him, telling him how much I love his handsome face, burning up my composure as he sucks, laps, and swirls at my wetness. I reach down for his hair and thread my fingers gently, wanting to tug but withholding for my tender-headed man. He growls on my pussy like he wants me to anyway, like he likes things that hurt a little bit, and I tighten my fingers just enough to make him drool on me.

Dripping, both of us, him from the mouth and me where I’m made to, and I’m there. His hands have made their way under my shirt, and he’s squeezing my tits, and I’m there, bucking on his mouth and peaking- peeking at his face to help me come. One look at his fantastic, wolfish handsomeness, “Rhett!” and I come on his mouth, flexing under his tongue.

Boneless, I release my fistful of curls and twitch as the pointy tip of his tongue gives me a few extra flicks. When he’s finished, he rises up and crawls over me. Through my pleasure-blur, I can see his cheeks are pink and his lips are shiny. Dazed, I pull him in for a kiss and whimper for the wetness on his beard. He rears up and looks down at me.

I tell him, “You are so handsome.”

“And you’re yummy.”

He kisses me again and slides me back to the center of the bed. Between kisses, I find him tented, and my slick twitches to have what’s there. Rhett rubs himself on me, pushing his hardness into my belly, peppering my face with kisses far too sweetly for a man who eats like he does. I touch the muscles in his back on my way to his rump, pulling him harder into me, shifting to soak the gray fabric as I wrap my legs around him. Wordlessly, he begins to grind, and I slip my hands under the hem of his sweats. He’s bare beneath.

Pushing the waistband down his flat, smooth hips, he springs forward, and I can’t wait any longer. I reach for his cock and tug on it, forming a crease between his brows. His cock is perfect, and I’ve told him countless times that he’s more than big enough for me. I wrap my fist on his thickness and give a few shallow tugs, urging him to swell just a little bit more.

Above me, his face goes red and the veins in his arms prove my man hot-blooded and ready to mate. I want him to mate me, claim me, do what he pleases, but as I rub my thumb over the ruddy head of his cock, he melts under my touch, submissive. Whimpering, my lover gives over to my hand, and I watch him, fascinated, as his face contorts.

“Baby, oh, gosh,” he pleads.

“Are you gonna fuck me with this thing?” I tease. “Or am I just s’posed to play with it?”

“Nnnngh.” He takes my wrist and pins it above my head, leaving his cock jutting proud just above his low-riding sweats. He looks into my eyes; he’s done being toyed with. He’s got one job, and he’s going to finish me, bratty mouth or no. He releases my wrist and it stays there, and like a good girl, I bring the other wrist up and stay put. With two hands, he raises my hips.

I watch, transfixed, as he spreads his legs to meet me and presses the hot head of his cock to my clit. Hissing, twitching, my body sparks with heat. Wait are you waiting for?

Slowly, he slides the fat length of his cock against my wetness. The ridge of his cockhead catches my swollen clit, and the veins in his chubby tickle my slit, slipping between the folds. He rocks steady, holding my hips up, and all I can do is squirm, flex, and wait for him to want more of me. With lusty eyes half-lidded, he looks down at me, and something in his stare is unplaceable.

Hooking my ankles behind his back, I use my core to hold myself to him. With two hands free, he caresses my stomach and waist, grabbing the soft fat of my hips when he needs me.

As his hips press harder, insistent, my pussy reacts to almost having him. He slides his cock ’til I’m trembling, and only then does he start nudging where I open for him. He grabs my chin and slips his thumb in my mouth, and right when I feel I’m about to cry out, beg him to push inside, he breaches.

“Ah!”

He’s thick, and even though I’m ready for him, it stings. He pushes, feeding me a little at a time, then begins to thrust steadily. Sparks shriek up my spine as he goes, and my tightness yields to him, like this pussy was designed for him. My man starts bumping against me, and the pleasure catches up. I forgo my submissive wrists and reach for him, grabbing his trunk as he presses me into the bed. I can’t believe I’ve got such a handsome man inside me, and my sounds must expose my fondness for him, because with one move, he turns our lovemaking nasty.

He spits on my pussy.

The wetness drips down to where we’re connected, and I can’t look at him anymore. He pushes the extra slick inside, not that we need it, and his thrusts become harsh and erratic. Yanking my top up over my tits, he gets me all but naked for him, and I can feel his greedy eyes on me, then his hands. He squeezes my chest and pinches me where I’ve gone stiff, then holds one breast in each hand and puts all his weight on me. Crushing me, he fucks in earnest, solid strokes that collate my pleasure into white-hot streaks of lust, blooming from the inside.

Now, I’m moaning and my man is grunting. He’s beastly, and as he takes me, we begin to dance like we so often dance. Sex. Rough sex.

My hands go under his shirt. He keeps it on cuz he knows I like it, knows I like to fuck half-clothed. Being naked with him is special and glorious, but right now, we need it quick. Under my hands, I can feel him trembling, breathing, wanting me. I want him, too, and as he leans down to scoop me up, pressing our bodies close, we begin to talk to each other.

“I want you, oh my god, I want you. I want you so fucking bad, Rhett!”

“You feel so good, baby. You like my cock?”

“Yes, yes, oh yes! I love it!”

Desperate for one another, we begin to sync. I’m so far removed from my head and so deeply present in my body that my pussy flexes disappointment when he pulls out. I’m about to whine when he flips me over, on all fours, and mounts me. Like a fucking dog.

Hips snapping, he fucks into me, and I’m lost to the fantasy-reality stirring up my pussy. I think about his face, and his long thighs, and his hands. He’s there with me, but I miss him. Distantly, I decide that next time, I’m going to ride him. He brings me back with his hunger, mating me as if a wolf in heat.

My mouth can’t keep the pleasure in as his hips bounce off my ass. “Oh god, I love your cock! I love your big cock! Feels so fucking good, Rhett!”

“Fuck, oh, fuck! Scream for me!”

Obnoxiously loud noises rip through me, my body crying for my man’s power. I’m so wet he’s slipping, so I squeeze, chasing the pleasure, keeping him trapped, and I can’t breathe, and I’m losing it, and his fingers dig into my hips, and I’m about to come on his cock, just like this, ten thousand times over, and I want him to cream me-

Rhett’s fingertips touch my clit and I come, shrieking and overwhelmed as he rubs and fucks me to a finish. I’m shaking as I come, and he comes inside me, but I’m so numb I can barely feel myself breathe, and then he’s rocking into me slowly, so slowly, easing me back into sensation. I feel his cock again, thick, huge, pressing into me where I need it, and I’m throbbing, and maybe I’m sobbing, but it feels fucking perfect, and he’s perfect, and I fall into the clouds, at least I think they’re clouds, and his bigness covers me, still inside, pulsing, steamy, exhausted.

* * *

Afterwards, we snack together and snuggle up on the couch with a movie. I’m fucked out, completely, and his curls are even more wild with the sweat of sex. We’ve changed our clothes, but the scent of our coupling lingers, and as I tuck myself into his side, I breathe deeply like his musk will soothe my heat.

When my man stays home with me, we take it easy.

We eat meaty, cheesy foods and make each other drinks. We create. We sleep in. We have sex.

On sick days, we take care of each other. On cold days, we keep each other warm.

My man is my everything. Sometimes I wonder why he likes me so much, but then he fucks me, and I don’t care to know. He’s my man, and when he takes me in his arms, I’m the lucky one.

Right now, my man is here with me, and I’m cuddled into him with my legs up. Black-and-white characters move about the TV screen, and his arm is around me. My sex is throbbing ‘cuz he fucked me good, and I’m still wet, and I want him again, but I wait. I have all the time in the world for him to split me open.

Twenty minutes into the film, my hand wanders down and squeezes my man where he’s thick. His eyebrow goes up, he purrs, then he fucks me again.


End file.
